


Dal Segno alla Fine

by sarahenany, Thursday26



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 03:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahenany/pseuds/sarahenany, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thursday26/pseuds/Thursday26
Summary: What do you get when you mix a fortune-teller, a sex shop owner and a skeptical engineer?Inspired by, based on, stolen off, will make no sense if you haven't read, and used with permission from the author of, Bad Dragon.





	Dal Segno alla Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeathenVampires](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeathenVampires/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bad Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14600487) by [HeathenVampires](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeathenVampires/pseuds/HeathenVampires). 



> Big swoony thanks to HeathenVampires for allowing this plot bunny out before it ATE MY BRAIN. And to co-author Thursday26, who makes everything better seemingly just by looking at the screen.

“Madame Ul-ri-ca’s Psychic Readings,” Hiccup reads slowly, disbelief coloring his tone, a grimace on his face. He doesn’t want to look at the guy next to him. He knows if he looks he’ll be subjected to _those_ eyes. And then it won’t matter what he thinks.

“Come on!” Toothless beams, nudging Hiccup’s arm with excitement. “It’ll be fun!”

Hiccup’s mouth turns down. He doesn’t want to ruin their day with his healthy skepticism (and it _is_ healthy, dammit). Today has been a good day. The sky is bright blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The sun’s heating the air pleasantly, even for Hiccup’s inability to handle hot weather. It’s the perfect day for the charity fair bustling around them. Hiccup can hear the laughter of children, the whine and creak of old attractions, and the cries of carnies trying to lure people into their games.

Toothless had suggested the fair with “something special” in mind. Hiccup never would have guessed that _this_ was the something special. The sign on the stall is tacky purple clapboard with white stars and moons and _Madame Ulrica’s Psychic Readings_ written in a loopy cursive with some ‘mystic’ symbols replacing some of the letters. “Just what I like to do for fun,” Hiccup drawls, unable to help himself, “forking over thirty bucks to get a demonstration of a cold reading–thirty bucks _each!_ –that I could do myself by looking at any elementary textbook or just the Hyman analysis of the Barnum Effect–”

“Hymen?” Toothless cuts him off, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Do you really wanna go there?”

Hiccup rolls his eyes and shoves at Toothless’ shoulder. “Hy- _man_ , not _hymen_ . Pervert.” Toothless laughs and Hiccup finds himself smiling in response. If Toothless wasn’t so _adorable_ (he’s a full-grown man! He shouldn’t be so dang cute), Hiccup knows he would be feeling irritated instead of the swell of warm fondness in his gut.

“Are you saying my nyanya was not a psychic?” Toothless asks, mock-affronted.  

Hiccup sighs heavily. “With all due respect to your grandma, Toothless, psychics are _frauds_. The use the Sherlock Holmes technique– you have read Sherlock Holmes, right? –to bamboozle–”

“Oh, Mr. Five-Dollar Word, here,” Toothless cuts in again, ruffling Hiccup’s hair like Hiccup is a little brother or something, “with the–”

Hiccup squawks at the treatment, batting Toothless’ arm away from him. “Bamboozle is a five-dollar word?” Hiccup asks, letting his irritation show in the glare on his face. He tries to reset his hair into some sort of order, while he does _not_ pout at Toothless.

“To us mere mortals, not you or Fish I guess. I know you two eat dictionaries for breakfast, but–”

“We do not eat them for breakfast,” Hiccup interrupts, standing up a little straighter and letting his hands fall to his sides. “We eat them for lunch.”

Toothless chuckles, but not for long. “Don’t change the subject,” he says, still laughing softly. He gestures towards the stall, “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

At the word ‘adventure’, a swell of adrenaline rushes through Hiccup. He tamps it down immediately. Despite what some people (well, okay, absolutely everyone who knows him) say, Hiccup is _not_ an adrenaline junkie. Hiccup sniffs. “It’s stored somewhere safe.” He pauses for a moment. “With my wallet.”

Toothless wraps an arm around Hiccup’s shoulder, tucking him into his side. Hiccup makes a sound of surprise, but doesn’t fight it.”Cheapskate,” he laughs, pressing his lips into Hiccup’s temple.

Hiccup smiles and looks up at his boyfriend, eyes half lidded and suggestive. He runs a hand up Toothless’ chest, teasing. “I would much rather spend my money at your store, thank you very much.”

Toothless grins, white teeth sharp against dark skin. “I’ve told you, you don’t have to spend any money at Bad Dragon.” He leans in, voice dropping into a purr. “Anything in it is yours for the taking.” He nudges his nose against Hiccup’s hair and Hiccup turns his head until he can feel Toothless’ breath in his ear. “The store _and_ the owner.”

Hiccup blushes, a shiver running through him. How can Toothless go from adorable best friend to seductive boyfriend in less than a second? And why does it _always_ make Hiccup’s knees go weak? “Uh…”

Toothless chuckles again, and jeez, there’s another shiver. He pulls away from Hiccup. “Look, just because Astrid dragged us here because she wants us to hook up with whatever–”

“The organizer,” Hiccup supplies, trying to not let his amusement show on his face. Sure, the Astrid thing is an excuse, but Hiccup saw how excited Toothless was to bring him here.

“Yeah, that,” Toothless continues, like he wasn’t interrupted. “Doesn’t mean we can’t partake…”

“Yeah,” Hiccup concedes, “but that doesn’t mean we _have_ to either.” He catches Toothless eye and his indignation peters out a bit. “You like this sort of stuff, don’t you?” Dammit. He knows he’s already lost.

Toothless’ face softens. “Look, Hiccup...” Dammit, dammit, dammit. Those eyes. Those eyes should be illegal. Hiccup can’t look away though. When he looks in them, the rest of the world falls away. What else could he even look at? “If you like, you can make it a… demonstration of how they use readers–”

“Cold reading. It’s called cold reading,” Hiccup corrects absentmindedly. Toothless’ smile turns more fond and he moves in closer. What did he just say? Toothless brushes his knuckles over Hiccup’s cheek and Hiccup trembles. “What..” he clears his throat, “what was… what were we talking about?”

Toothless laughs, still leaning close. “Good to know I’m not the only lovesick idiot in this partnership.” He can feel Toothless’ breath across his lips. Hiccup licks his lips, staring at Toothless’ mouth. Toothless was going for suave, but there was too much emotion in his voice. Hiccup is grateful to hear it. The things Toothless does to him.

Toothless pulls back, making Hiccup frown in confusion. His eyes are wide and soft. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

“No, you know what?” Hiccup can’t believe he’s agreeing to this. “Let’s do this. She’s probably already gotten an eyeful of us standing out here like lovesick puppies.”

“Puppies?!” Toothless’ tone is indignant.

Hiccup rolls his eyes again. “I don’t know. Like, uh, dragons, some kinda useless reptiles,” he corrects, fond. “Whatever. C’mon. We’ll go in and I’ll tell you all about cold reading techniques.”

“My treat,” Toothless says quickly, wrapping his hand around Hiccup’s.

“No, Toothless. I’m not that broke!” Hiccup argues. Gods, he must really care about Toothless to be arguing for him to waste his money on a psychic, of all things.

“Ah, my dear little Hiccup,” Toothless states dramatically, bringing Hiccup’s hand to his mouth and kissing the knuckles one by one, “I am a business owner. And you are a lab rat.”

“I am an _inventor_ ,” Hiccup huffs, pretending to be offended.

“A mad inventor,” Toothless smirks, rubbing his cheek against Hiccup’s hand.

“You’re making me mad,” Hiccup grumbles, earning a laugh from Toothless. Hiccup rolls his eyes fondly, wondering idly if his eyes are going to get stuck with how much he does that around Toothless, and pulls him into the purple stall, refusing to look back.

Hiccup is going to prove that this psychic is a fraud.

* * *

Madame Ulrica hears more than sees the young couple that bumbles into the tent. She doesn’t turn too far from the incense she’s lighting. “Come in, come in.” She heard them outside; not too much detail, but she’s been expecting them. They’re an attractive couple, laughing, full of love. Another quick glance. Young, one tall and dark, the other skinny and pale. They aren’t here to contact anyone, just to have some fun, to enjoy themselves. “I am Ulrica.” She isn’t really, but she’s used to thinking of herself as Ulrica now when she’s on the job.

Ulrica waves a hand at them, the bangles on her arm jangling with the motion. “Have a seat,” she says, turning, the necklaces around the neck joining in the noise. She waves her other hand, making sure the sweet-smelling smoke from the incense is spreading. Her nose tickles, but she doesn’t sneeze: she’s had too much practice. She deepens her voice. “Have a seat, young Vikings.”

The taller one startles, eyes going wide, and looks at the skinny one. “How did she know you had Viking blood?!”

The skinny one rolls his eyes. “You just told her.” He tilts his head at Ulrica, unimpressed look on his face. Ulrica smiles. “Red hair isn’t common,” he continues, not breaking eye contact, as if in challenge. “I do have a slight Nordic accent, and I’m sure she heard us talking outside. It’s not like these tents are sound-proof. And if I told her that I didn’t have Viking blood, or you in this case, she would have told me to look closer into my family tree. The chances of someone from Northern Europe turning up in my ancestry would usually be close enough to convince me she was the real deal.” He continues looking at her, smug. Her smile feels tight. “If I believed in her in the first place.”

Ulrica raises an eyebrow, not allowing her smile to falter. Cheeky boy. “You may be cute, but I won’t let you talk about me like I’m not here.”

“Sorry, Madame,” the taller one says, wrapping a muscled arm around the other man, “he’s taken.” He turns his attention to him, softness in his eyes. “But I agree, cute and mouthy.”

Ulrica’s smile feels sharp on her own face. She sits at her velvet-draped table, waving to the seats across from her. “Please.” As the boys sit, she adjusts her shawl, which has started to slip off her shoulders. The skeptic follows the movement, face turning shrewd. She tries not to glare. He might have seen her _Un Ballo in Maschera_ t-shirt.

They take their seats. “Sorry,” he says, nodding, “I don’t believe in psychics.”

“Thirty bucks to change your mind,” she challenges, her voice falling out of the practiced airiness she tries to affect. It’s barely noticeable, but the skeptic picks up on it. “How do you plan to pay?”

Skeptic snorts, while his boyfriend answers, “Cash.” He pulls out a wallet and tosses the bills onto the table. She swipes them up quickly, seeing multiple 20’s and tucking them away without counting. This one believes. He won’t short her.

The skeptic protests, but she speaks before he can say anything else. “Well then! Let’s get started.” She adjusts the placemat on the table. On it are her “crystal” ball and a couple of non-scented color candles with some glitter glued on the side in mystic shapes. It doesn’t need adjusting, but the sight of the tools sometimes starts to loosen a skeptic. She gives them another smile, not as sharp, and takes a slow breath in and out. She can’t do her thing if she’s annoyed with the client. “Let’s start with names.”

“Shouldn’t you be able to tell us?” Skeptic shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. The other man looks uncomfortable, but doesn’t say anything.

She clenches her hands into fists under the table. “Of course,” she says, not giving any indication that he’s getting under her skin. “Now, put your names to the front of your mind.” Ulrica unclenches her hands, bringing them to her temples and closing her eyes, humming. She can’t tell if they’re focusing on their own names or not, but it doesn’t matter as her mind replays what she overheard before they entered. “I see some unusual names,” she says, scrunching her face as if in concentration.

“Yeah!” one of them says. It’s not the skeptic.

“Shush!” the skeptic orders, and it sounds like he hit the other. Probably on the shoulder.

She wants to smile, but she keeps it from spreading across her face. “Yes, quite unusual…” She opens her eyes and looks at them. “Hiccup and… Toothless?” she asks, furrowing her brow like she’s unsure. She isn’t.

The tall one, Toothless, she suspects, nods in excitement. “Yeah! I’m Toothless and that’s Hiccup!” he tells her.

From the look on Hiccup’s face, he is not amused. Not even a little bit. He glares at Toothless, yet it’s still fond. “Yes,” Ulrica sighs, “it’s obvious.”

Hiccup’s glare snaps to her, much less fond. “What is?”

“Oh please.” She lets the ‘mystic’ mask drop for an instant, offering a friendly grin. “It doesn’t take a psychic to tell that you two are in love.”

Hiccup’s face goes red and Toothless beams. Adorable. Toothless turns to Hiccup, smug. “See, she’s the real deal.”

Hiccup rolls his eyes again. “No, we talked outside her tent for a long time. We were bound to say each other’s names. She overhead us. And we both act like lovesick idiots all the time. Even Snotlout can tell.”

Toothless pouts. “You just don’t want to admit that you’re wrong.”

Hiccup smiles at him, soft. “You wish.”

She clears her throat, catching their attention again. “You’ve only met recently, and fell in love like you’ve known each other your whole lives,” she says, mostly out of habit. Those lines tend to work on the average lovesick couple.

She knows it’s a mistake as soon as it comes out of her mouth. Hiccup sighs. “That’s a stock spiel. That can apply to anyone who’s uh...” he chokes a bit, glancing at Toothless in embarrassment, “who might be falling for each other.”

Ulrica won’t be swayed, though. “But it’s true, isn’t it?” She doesn’t know why she’s being so insistent. She has said those lines to so many young couples before that she’s lost count. The majority of them probably aren’t even together anymore. But there’s something about this couple that she can feel in her gut…

She shakes her head. No. She’s not falling for that gut-feeling nonsense. “You feel safe when the other’s around,” she adds, falling back into the routine.

Toothless–really such an odd name for someone with such straight teeth–grins. His arm moves and she suspects he’s holding Hiccup’s hand under the table. “You have to admit, she’s good.”

“She’s read your body language,” Hiccup states, smiling indulgently at Toothless. He holds up their intertwined hands. “You’re not known for being subtle.” Toothless’ chest swells at the accusation. Hiccup sighs and turns back to Ulrica. “Still don’t believe you, no offense.”

She’s past being offended by Hiccup and waves off the apology. Now, she just wants to make Hiccup believe, to hear him admit he was wrong. Obviously he’s not used to being wrong. “It just means I need to work harder. Place your hand on the crystal ball.”

Hiccup balks, like he can’t believe she’s still trying. Like she doesn’t have any more tricks up her sleeve. Naive boy. Toothless nudges him. “Go on, Hiccup.”

Hiccup raises an eyebrow, another sigh leaving him, and he puts his left hand on top of the crystal sphere, his right still clasped in Toothless’. “Palm flat,” Madame instructs, voice going flat too. The boy may be a skeptic, but there’s no need to be so… obnoxious.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want the psychic current to get lost,” Hiccup snorts, but follows her instructions.

She grits her teeth and places her hands on the sides of the globe, closing her eyes, humming again, like she’s in deep thought. Ulrica continues to hum, now just doing it to annoy Hiccup. She waits until she can hear him shifting around in his seat. “You… have had a conservative upbringing, emphasizing traditional values and good manners,” her tongue is moving without her actively thinking about it now, “and your upbringing has caused you trouble in accepting your sexuality.” She says the last part with intent.

She waits for the usual response of awe, or accusations, but Hiccup is too bull-headed. She squints open an eye. He remains impassive, not a twitch or flicker of response. She opens her eyes the rest of the way. He’s not even looking at her! His eyes are half-lidded and focused on the crystal, so she can’t even check for his pupils dilating. Fortunately, Toothless has no such qualms. “That’s amazing!” He grins, shaking Hiccup and forcing the skeptic to look at him, eyes wide. “I mean! She could obviously tell we’re together, so yeah, the sexuality thing, but that bit about your upbringing!”

Hiccup gives him a  very cool glance. Ulrica gets the feeling that she doesn’t want to be this Viking’s enemy. Thankfully, Hiccup speaks so she doesn’t have to. This couple… there’s something about them that’s affecting her. “You can tell a lot about upbringing from body language, clothing, and turn of phrase. Go ahead,” he says, turning his gaze to her. It feels like it bores into her soul. “Tell us what he does for a living.”

Madame smiles, not about to be taken down by this child. “Like we don’t know the owner of Bad Dragon? It’s a big town, but not _that_ big.”

And thank the gods, Hiccup smiles too. His flat gaze was unnerving. He turns further to Toothless, face softening. “You’re famous, Toothless,” he says. It’s slightly teasing, but Toothless doesn’t seem to mind.

But now Toothless’ gaze at her is surprisingly level, like now _he’s_ starting to doubt her. “I’ve never seen you around the store,” he says.

“Maybe I can turn invisible,” she jokes, relaxing a little when it draws a smile from Toothless. Can’t have her believer starting to doubt. She’ll never win against Hiccup if he stops believing as well. “How about you put your hand on the crystal ball too? Let me see what I can see?”

With a charming, shining smile, Toothless flattens the pale inside of one palm against the smooth glass, on the side opposite to Hiccup’s, leaving the top open for her.

“Now the real magic begins,” Ulrica intones, going for dramatic. She observes the pallor in Hiccup’s face: night shifts most likely. The only place offering night-shifts for white-collar skeptic types like this fellow would be in a lab. Lab rat probably, engineer would be her best guess based off the marks on his hands. She thinks for a moment. The R&D plant over on Pine Street, most likely. There are very faint red marks around his wrists, meaning that he’s into some sort of kink with his beloved boyfriend. She flats her hand on the crystal, trying to think of the best way to phrase the—

The crystal captures her hand, pulling her palm to the surface like it’s been glued down. She can’t move. It’s stuck. Madame’s eyes go wide and she tries to pull her hand away. She can’t. _She can’t_! The two men are still sitting there, smiling, but she’s… she’s…

* * *

It takes a moment for Toothless to say something. “She’s sitting very still,” he whispers to Hiccup. “You think she’s okay?”

“Part of the act,” Hiccup half-whispers back, not really caring if she hears them. “You have to strike a pose when getting messages from the _other world_.” He snickers. “All that jazz.”

* * *

She can hear something. No. _No_. She can’t be hearing anything. But she can hear it.

_“Don’t hurt him! Take it out on me, just please don’t hurt him!” Angry eyes. Disappointment. But that’s not new._

_“You’re not my son.” Pain. That’s new._

_“He can’t fly on his own! He’ll drown!” Panic. Fear. Kicking legs. Biting, freezing air. Weightlessness._

_“Hiccup, no!”_

_“DAD!” Wide eyes. One strong push. Bright purple light, the shriek of a plasma blast. The taste of ozone. The silence that follows._

A sob racks Ulrica’s chest. She’s caught somewhere between what she’s seeing in the crystal and her tent at the charity fair. “You’d never hurt him,” she whispers. “You’d never…” she stops. It sounds wrong coming from her mouth. That’s not her voice. “You’d never hurt me.”

She falls again. 

_Fighting the queen. Fighting the queen. Never thought you’d fight the queen, but you’re doing it with this human on your back. Miles off the ground, Vikings all watching._

_Darkness. Hiding in the clouds._

_Diving. He’s getting so close._

_“Hold, Toothless. Hold.”_

_It shouldn’t be calm, but it is. It’s going to be okay._

_“Now!”_

_Plasma blast. Flame. Clawing up, up, up._

_Oh no. The tail._

_Tail doesn’t work. Can’t turn away. Brace. Brace. Brace!_

_Hurts. Awake._

_Hiccup. Into the fire._

_No!_ **_HICCUP!_ **

* * *

Toothless shakes his head, and it helps Ulrica resurface for a moment, breathing past the choking panic flowing through her body. “Hiccup,” Toothless mutters. She can see him. He isn’t seeing anything around him, fixed, staring eyes wide and focused somewhere beyond his hand.

Hiccup leans in. “You okay, bud?”

“I won’t leave you,” Ulrica chokes out. This voice sounds different too. And it’s not hers either. “I won’t let you go.”

Hiccup looks panicked, turning a hateful glare towards her. “Whatever the fuck you’re doing, stop it!” he yells. She can hear him, but he sounds far away. “It’s not gonna work!” Hiccup starts to stand. “You’ve had your fun!” He shoots a glare behind her. “What the fuck was in that incense?” He’s up all the way, and tries to remove his hand.

It won’t come away.

Ulrica’s mouth opens again. She knows it won’t be her voice speaking before the first sound comes out. “May the Valkyries welcome you.” Her cheeks are wet. Pain. There’s pain and loss. How is she standing? Is she standing? “May they sing your name with love and fury…”

Toothless shoots to his feet, chair falling over behind him. “No!” He’s trying to remove his hand as well. She can see him tugging uselessly at the glass. “No no no no no no! I killed him!” Tears are streaming down his face.

"It wasn't your fault, bud!” Hiccup cries, panic filling his face. “They made y-–” He clamps his mouth shut, shakes his head, focuses on his boyfriend. “YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! She’s tricking you! Toothless, please!”

Toothless isn’t focusing. Ulrica feels something tearing at her insides, like someone has turned her fucking guts into a blender. Two types of grief. So strong. “Turn it off! Stop it!” Hiccup begs. Her mouth falls open, but nothing comes out. She can feel her fingers again, only the very tips, but it’s something.”Stop it! Stop it!” Hiccup’s yells are turning to fury. “Turn it OFF!”

Ulrica tears her hand away and the crystal shatters, shrapnel shooting out in every direction. She screams, hands flying to her face. Toothless flings himself over Hiccup, tackling him to the floor, and shields him, seeming bigger than he actually is. Ulrica stands, legs shaking underneath her, and backs away from the table as fast as she can. _“Toothless!”_ Hiccup yells out, curling into the protection like it’s second nature.

Ulrica can’t look away from the pair. What has she seen? Her heart is thundering in her chest. Her shawl lies pooled on her chair, half on the floor, her regular clothes completely exposed, but she can’t bring herself to bend to retrieve it. Toothless’ head is half-raised as he’s crouching over Hiccup, wide-eyed, eyes darting everywhere, as if looking for threats. Hiccup pushes at Toothless and they both scramble to their feet. “Stay away from us!” Hiccup yells at her, grabbing Toothless’ hand and dragging him out of the tent.

She stands there, shaking. Slowly, she processes it as fear. What has she seen? What has she seen?

A dream? She blinks, pinching her arm hard enough to bruise. The crystal ball lies in pieces around the tent. Her hands come up around her throat. Whose voice will come out if she tries to speak? Her eyes dart to the door again.

_What has she seen?_

* * *

Hiccup’s hands are shaking as he wipes a wet paper towel over Toothless’ face. There aren’t any cuts, but he needs to do something for Toothless. Anything.

He feels kind of bad for how they disappeared. Hiccup didn’t want to stop once he left the “psychic’s” tent. They blew past Astrid and some pretty, dark-haired girl, probably the person Astrid wanted them to meet. Hiccup couldn’t bring himself to care, though. Toothless still had that haunted look in his eyes and Hiccup needed to get him _out of there_.

They didn’t stop until they got to Hiccup’s apartment. It took Hiccup a moment to move from the doorway; he guided Toothless to the couch, then ran to get the paper towels. Toothless didn’t make a sound or resist, pliant, docile. What did that woman _do_ to him? Should Hiccup have called the cops? What would he tell them? That some psychic glued their hands to a crystal ball and freaked out his boyfriend? Yeah, right. That would go over well.

So he’s sitting on the coffee table, gently wiping the towel over Toothless’ face, waiting for Toothless to focus on anything. He never should have agreed to seeing that psychic. Obviously, she hypnotized Toothless and implanted some scary memories, or events. Hiccup can’t be hypnotized, a magician tried when he was five.The magician said he had a “closed mind to the mystic world” and Hiccup laughed in his face. No more magicians after that.

He still can’t shake the images he saw. They were nothing. Toothless’ fear obviously made him hallucinate. There was something in that incense. Some sort of drug. Made him see things. He does not remember flying over the sea, wind cutting through his hair and warm scales under his hands. Nope. A hallucination.

“H-Hiccup?” Toothless growls. His voice has never sounded so rough.

Hiccup panics a bit. If Toothless is still under whatever influence Madame Whats-Her-Face put him under, should he take him to a doctor? Another psychic? He has no idea. “I’m here,” Hiccup says, voice cracking.

“Hiccup?” he asks again, voice a little more human.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Hiccup repeats, standing, needing to be closer. He leans over Toothless and runs his hands over Toothless’ head. He’s starting to focus a bit. Hiccup isn’t going to cry, but he isn’t going to deny the relief that he feels when Toothless looks at him.

Toothless brings up a hand to Hiccup’s waist, fingers wrapping in the fabric of his shirt. “Hiccup,” he sighs, relaxing like Hiccup’s name is everything he needs.

“I’m here,” Hiccup says one more time. Bending to Toothless, hands still on either side of his face, he closes his eyes and presses their foreheads together.

The moment their foreheads touch, Hiccup’s breath catches. _Big baby. A toothless smile. Toothless._

_Raw fish. Test flights. Black wings. The tops of clouds._

_“You’d never hurt him. You’d never hurt me.”_

_“Do you trust me, bud?”_

_“You. And me. As one.”_

_The eyes of the crowd surround them, but it doesn’t matter. His own mouth moving, words coming out easy, warmth in his tone matching the feelings in his chest. “You never cease to amaze me, bud.”_

_Scales against his forehead._

_He’s complete._

He startles at the warmth on his cheek, eyes flying open. Toothless is looking at him, smile in his eyes. The words come without thought. “You know that doesn’t wash out.”

Toothless’ grin splits his face, incandescent. He grabs Hiccup around the waist and throws him onto the couch, straddling his hips and tucking his face into Hiccup’s neck, covering every inch with wet kisses. Hiccup laughs, not putting that much effort into pushing him off. He clings to Toothless’ waist, his head, his face. He’s not scared anymore. His chest swells fit to burst. All he can feel is…

_...Whole._

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious about the title, it's a standard musical term indicating the repetition of a piece of music starting again from a predetermined point (usually indicated by a sign, "segno", till the end, "fine"). Italian, because what musical term isn't?


End file.
